There's Always Hope
by Phoenix Aurorean
Summary: The way to Earth is closed, but Fandral is falling in love with someone he met only briefly there: Darcy; and the sister of Queen Frigga offers him a chance to make that love real. But can he win Darcy's heart from across worlds?  Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1: A Growing Feeling

**Hi, everyone, I'm Bella, and this is my first big story here ;)**

**Attention all Fandral&Darcy (Fandarcy) fans: this story is for you! But be warned: I follow the Thor/Avengers movie storylines, so it may be a while before I give you a happy ending. But nevertheless I shall update regularly, or let you know if there are gonna be AWOL periods!**

**I'd like to thank my betas RandomFanatic, BeautifulStormMunroe, Kell/KnightMistress, and BlackMarketTrombones for their help; and I'd like to thank all of them for their support, their tough and constructive criticism, and their encouragement, without which there may have been a great deal of slip-ups in this story!**

**Note: I do not own Thor, the Avengers, or any characters affiliated with either, though I wish I did :(**

**Chapter 1: A Growing Feeling**

Loki was gone. The Bifrost was destroyed, Laufey was dead, and Asgard and Jotunheim were both saved.

All of Asgard spent the night feasting in the Hall of the Kings. Volstagg was regaling his listeners with tales of heroics on Earth, Sif's sharp voice cutting through his exaggerations every now and then while Hogun smiled and even laughed; but Thor was nowhere to be found. And as the first jokes and stories were exchanged, Fandral found himself taking less and less interest in what was going on; his plate was barely touched, his wine goblet still nearly full, and with Volstagg's chatter ringing in his ears, his gaze wandered around the Hall from one smiling maiden and to the next, and then to the next. He felt as if he were searching for something or someone—but he could not remember what or whom. Every time he settled on a maiden's face a jolt of excitement went to his heart, but there was always one thing or another that would throw him off.

_Smile too dull…eyes wrong color…golden hair, not dark…_dark…

And then the memory of the Midgardian—Earth maiden, the ally of Thor's Lady Jane—wandered across his mind. _Darcy—was that her name? The Lady Darcy_…

With a surge of admiration he remembered her kindness, her beauty, her spirit, her courage in the face of the Destroyer, her devotion to the Lady Jane, and a wish rose within him—that he could have grown to know her. But it was not to be so. The Bifrost was closed.

With a sigh, Fandral rose and excused himself, intending to find Thor. He could probably use the support of a friend; his absence alone said that much.

As he passed among the pillars of the Hall to the high, echoing corridors beyond, he heard Sif's distant voice saying, "My Queen, I am so sorry for your loss."

Frigga's response was laced with concern and sadness. "How is he?"

_Thor_.

Sif's sorrow matched the Queen's. "He mourns for his brother, and—he misses her. The mortal."

_The Lady Jane._

Fandral's vague concern was confirmed. Thor was in pain. He needed a friend.

He moved forward down the high-ceilinged hallway, glancing between pillars and over the city below as he went. There was a distant hum of laughter and voices raised in cheer, but in spite of that a deep sadness seemed to hang heavy over Asgard. The scars left by Loki's actions would be slow to heal indeed.

In the distance, Fandral saw the tall, golden-armored figure of Heimdall standing guard at the shattered remnants of the rainbow bridge, its jagged edge reaching out into the great abyss between worlds that separated Thor from his Lady Jane.

Up ahead, a figure was approaching from the opposite end of the high, vaulted hallway. The distance closed, and Fandral recognized him instantly.

"All-Father!"

He saluted Odin with one fist over his heart and knelt on one knee. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the All-Father smiling down at him.

"You are right, worthy Fandral. Go to him."

He nodded in the direction from which he had come, and passed on farther down the hallway behind Fandral. Rising, Fandral hurried on, and before long he could see a scarlet-cloaked figure standing at the balcony at the end of the hallway.

Thor turned at his approach and smiled faintly on seeing him.

"How do you fare, my friend?" Fandral asked gravely.

Thor's answering smile even weaker than the first. "I shall be better."

Fandral squeezed his shoulder and found himself using Sif's words. "I'm so sorry for your loss—your losses."

"Thank you, my friend."

There was true gratitude in Thor's eyes as he clapped Fandral on the back, but most of his heart was gone from the gesture. They stood in silence, gazing out toward the vanished Bifrost, each drawing comfort from the presence of the other. The sight of the broken rainbow bridge reminded Fandral once more that he would never see the lovely Lady Darcy again—that he would never know her.

"The Lady Darcy," he said at last. "The ally of Lady Jane…What was she like?"

Thor laughed, actually laughed. "Fandral, I know what you are thinking."

"Wha—have you become a mind reader of late? I assure you my intentions are—er, would be—honorable!"

Still smiling broadly, Thor turned back to face the rainbow bridge. "The Lady Darcy…is perhaps one of the most extraordinary and unusual women I have ever met. She does not fear to speak her mind and she is steadfast in her honesty. She spoke many times of a strange device she called an 'iPod'—"

"'Eye-pod'?" Fandral repeated.

"Do not ask me what it is or how it works, my friend. All I know is that Lady Darcy loved to keep it with her and that it made music for her. She has no lack of courage, as you saw for yourself. She carries on her person at all times a weapon of no mean sort; it incapacitates its target with a small thunderbolt. She used it on me, at our first meeting."

Fandral burst out laughing, and Thor couldn't help but join him.

"On _you_?" Fandral gasped as soon as he could.

"Well, I admit it was not wholly unmerited. I was dazed and stupid from the Bifrost, and exceedingly angry at Father. I must have been shouting all manner of wild things, and in her eyes I would have been behaving strangely indeed. She is clever, very clever; and she possesses a sharp wit all her own. But above all, she has a kind heart, and she is unswervingly loyal to Jane."

Fandral's admiration for the Lady Darcy was only growing, and he truly wished he could have known her. He felt a stab of jealousy of Thor, of the time he had spent on Earth in Lady Darcy's company. But his heart swiftly reminded him that the brief period spent on Earth was not his friend's choosing, and that Thor himself was yearning for a very different lady.

"Thank you for telling me, my friend. I know it must have cost you to recall these things for me."

Thor squeezed his shoulder. "Actually, it is I who should be thanking you. You are a good and faithful friend, Fandral. I fear I have taken that for granted for many years. I hope you can forgive me for that."

Fandral shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive, my friend."

They both fell silent, and Fandral's mind was drawn back to what Thor had just told him. By his friend's account, the Lady Darcy was kind, spirited, courageous, and loyal. And as he had seen for himself—beautiful.

He groaned inwardly.

_It is only to be expected that the one woman I would take an interest in is the one I cannot reach._

**Please leave reviews! They help to fuel the drive to write stories, and the more I get the more chapters I can leave for you guys!**

**-Bella**


	2. Chapter 2: Fighting the Feeling

**Hello, everyone! It's Bella again! ;-) I'm back with yet another chapter of There's Always Hope.**

**I apologize to everyone looking for some Fandral&Darcy action. I'm afraid we will not "see" Darcy just yet, but I promise-she'll be here soon.**

**I want to thank dhauren and CaptainNeedles for their kind reviews; I kept my word! Here is more! ;D**

**Once again, I send a thankful shout-out to my betas, BeautifulStorm Munroe, KnightMistress, RandomFanatic, and BlackMarketTrombones for their encouragement and patient input. BlackMarketTrombones, you are a treasure-you're tough, brutally so, but you're also sensible and right ;)**

**Note: I don't own Thor; I just wish I had a hand in creating stories in his universe. Thor, Odin, Sif, Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral and Darcy do not belong to me, but Béohelm does.**

**And so, I give you:**

**Chapter 2: Fighting the Feeling**

Fandral slept little that night. He lay awake in his bed long after everyone else had gone to sleep, Thor's tales of the Lady Darcy echoing in his ears and a single image of her lovely, smiling face dancing through his mind.

At length he got up and made his way to the common room where the Warriors Three often passed the day. The fire in the giant brazier had all but gone out by the time he sank into one of the large davenports surrounding it. He stared into the glowing coals, the flickering tongues of flame bringing back memories of that day on Earth and the wrath of the Destroyer. She had not run, which he would have expected of an Earth women. She had not made a stand to fight like Sif, but she most likely did not have any training—she could not have been expected to fight as Sif had. But she had helped the Lady Jane, Thor, and the Doctor Selvig get the people of the town to safety. Fandral warmed with admiration as he recalled how she had rushed into buildings to warn of the coming menace and gently lifted children into the metal wagons that would carry them out of danger.

_She is indeed extraordinary…a woman of Earth…_

And that was the last thought in his head before sleep claimed him at last.

**S S S S S S S S S S**

When morning came, Fandral woke with a stiff neck and hazy dream-memories of a lovely face with dark eyes, framed by waves of dark hair. He groaned aloud.

_I must put this Earth maiden out of my mind. It is unhappy enough that the Bifrost is gone, but if I allow her to enchant me from across that vast abyss I fear I shall go mad._

_I need a distraction, and quickly_.

Wincing as he cracked his neck, he went back to his room. and as soon as his eyes fell on his sword standing upright in a corner, he was certain he had found the perfect distraction.

Clad in light armor ideal for sparring, Fandral made his way to the Great Hall first, catching up some sweet bread as he went.

"Fandral?"

He paused at Sif's voice and saw three of his friends sitting at a nearby table. Thor was not with them.

"Good morning, comrades," he greeted them cheerily.

Volstagg was staring at the bread in his hand. "Do you intend that to be your breakfast?"

"Yes."

Volstagg's expression immediately turned scandalized and even Sif and Hogun were wearing quizzical looks.

"Will you not have breakfast with us?" Sif asked.

"Not today, Sif. I have pressing business that leaves me very little time this morning. I shall see you all later."

He left the Great Hall behind him and headed to the sparring grounds in the courtyards of the Palace.

_Now for some invigorating distraction_.

Over the course of the morning and afternoon, Fandral took on all comers. Many of the young warriors seized the opportunity eagerly, for Fandral was widely acknowledged to be the finest swordsman in all of Asgard. Not even Thor or Loki could outmatch him.

Fandral threw himself wholly into each fight, trying desperately to drive the Lady Darcy from his mind. By the late afternoon he had earned himself a good number of bruises and scratches—some of which had continued to bleed a little, and he was so drenched with sweat that the dark-blue shirt under his armor looked almost black.

He saluted his latest adversary, the most recent in a long line of disgruntled warriors he had defeated. As he looked about for another opponent a thought rose to his mind, unbidden.

_I wonder what the Lady Darcy thinks of swordplay. If she had the opportunity, would she have chosen to become a warrior like Sif? Or would she have preferred to watch?_

He caught himself in that train of thought and cursed aloud.

_This will not do. I need a greater challenge_.

It was then that he saw Sif and Hogun entering the sparring grounds for their customary practice.

"Sif! Hogun!" he called, rushing over to them.

"What happened to _you_?" said Hogun, raising an eyebrow at Fandral's cuts and perspiration-drenched state.

Sif cast a shrewd glance about the grounds. "Judging by the number of warriors nursing wounded pride, I'd say Fandral has challenged all of Asgard since he left us. What are you doing, Fandral? Are you well?"

"Yes, Sif, I am well. I would ask a favor of you and Hogun, however. Would the two of you spar together against me?"

Sif looked genuinely concerned. "Fandral, you are in no state to fight one more, let alone two. You look exhausted."

"I assure you I am not. Actually—that may not be enough—"

He looked about the grounds and spotted the warrior he was searching for.

"Béohelm! Can I persuade you to spar with me again? You will be fighting me alongside Hogun and the Lady Sif this time."

The warrior stood up and made his way to them with a slow smile. "A very tempting offer. I accept."

Sif appeared positively alarmed now. "Fandral, this is folly! You are in no state to do this!"

"Please, Sif! If you do not, I will find another warrior willing to take your place. I promise that this will be my last fight of the day. Hogun, are you with me?"

Hogun sighed and shook his head. "Yes. But I agree with Sif."

Fandral looked at her. "Sif, please."

Her face was creased with worry and it seemed to be a struggle for her to answer. "Very well. I shall spar with you."

"Thank you, Sif."

"I shall regret this," she sighed.

They all walked to a clear space of the sparring grounds. Many of the other warriors who were already engaged ceased mid-spar to elbow their neighbors and point out the fight about to take place.

Hogun chose to forgo his mace in favor of a sword for the sparring match, and Sif cast aside her shield, preparing to fight with her usual double-bladed sword. Béohelm brandished his sword confidently, and Fandral saw a gleam in his eye that suddenly made him a little uneasy. Shrugging it aside, he squared up to salute his three opponents and adopted a Weaver stance.

Béohelm struck first. He moved with sudden speed, and Fandral just barely parried the blow when Hogun and Sif joined the fight.

In battle, Sif's style transformed her into a furious, deadly whirlwind. Her blades sliced the air in arcs with deadly accuracy. Hogun was like a wraith, side-stepping and parrying attacks, unpredictable and dangerous, striking where and when it was least expected. Béohelm's approach was similar that of a venomous cobra. He attacked with both with speed and brute force, recoiling with apparent ease and attacking again. He was fighting much more aggressively than Hogun or Sif, and Fandral suddenly realized that for Béohelm this was no mutually friendly sparring match; he was fighting to win, to see Fandral beaten.

Barely five minutes into the fight he realized just how much he had lied to Sif. Exhaustion was burrowing into his bones like the remorseless onset of winter. Each blow of Béohelm's he blocked reverberated through his arm and sent shocks of pain shooting up his arm. His normally keen battle-senses were dulling and he could barely see Hogun's strikes in time. For the most part he chose to evade Sif's attacks for the most part and her blades missed him by a hair's breadth. He focused mainly on parrying Béohelm's blows, as they came more and more fiercely. It had become a deadly dance, in which missing a single step would cost dearly.

Fandral blocked a blow from Hogun, but as he whirled to face Sif he missed his footing. He staggered, his guard down for a single, split second. Both of Sif's blades missed him by inches, but Béohelm's did not. He saw the sword flash, felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his side, and he heard Sif's voice cry, "_Stop!_"

His grip on his sword slackened and the weapon fell, ringing on the ground. His hand went to the pain in his side, and his fingers came away stained with red. In that moment all the breath in his lungs seemed to vanish and his knees buckled from underneath him. He vaguely felt the impact of the ground as he fell to his knees and sagged onto his back. Hovering above him he saw both Hogun's face and Sif's, and although he saw their lips move their voices seemed to be muffled, as if they were speaking through a fog. Above them he saw Béohelm's face, and for a single instant he saw a flash of triumph before the warrior's expression became serene again.

_Well, at least I was able to stop thinking of the Lady Darcy…or perhaps not… _

**S S S S S S S S S S**

"Where is he hurt?" said Hogun, already moving into action even as Sif began to help him. "I see blood on his hands."

Sif saw it. The wound was in Fandral's left side, where he was not protected by the light sparring armor. The blade had struck in just the right place, shoring through fabric and skin. And as Sif had feared, Fandral's exhaustion was so great that the sudden loss of blood was enough to cause him to lose consciousness.

"You half-wit oaf!" she shouted at Béohelm. "Where was your head? This was a sparring match, not a battle! Could you not tell the difference?"

"I assure you that it was an accident, Lady Sif," said Béohelm calmly and stiffly. "I shall be the first at Fandral's bedside when he awakens to offer my sincerest apologies for my blunder."

"Sif!" said Hogun sternly. "We must get him to the Healing Rooms, before this becomes any more serious."

With a venomous glare at Béohelm, Sif threw Fandral's arm over her shoulders. Together she and Hogun supported their fallen friend and made their way to the Healing Rooms as quickly as they could.

**Lots of thank yous to everyone who has reviewed so far! Please keep them coming! It only takes a second to write "Good job", and if all I got was a bunch of "Good job"s, I'd be happy! Reviews keep this story going!**

**Regards,**

**Bella**


	3. Chapter 3: Feeling Hope

**Hello, everybody! Bella here, once again ;D**

**I wish you all a very merry Christmas, and I have a gift for you: Chapter Three, and the long-awaited Darcy Lewis!**

**I have to warn you all, though, I may not be able to post another chapter again until two weeks from now. Don't worry, though; I am not giving up on this story, it's much too dear to me!**

**My warmest thanks goes to bunnychica9 and Scarlet Feather23 for their kind reviews. I promised more, and here it is! A very special thank you to Scarlet Feather23 for the 'Good Job' ;)**

**Again I'd also like to thank my persevering beta team of BlackMarket Trombones, KnightMistress/Kell, RandomFanatic, and BeautifulStormMunroe. Thank you for sticking with me, you guys; and for letting me know when you do or don't have time to look over my scribbles ;D BlackMarketTrombones, did you notice that you made less corrections this time? I think I'm getting better!**

**Note: I don't own Fandral, Darcy, or Thor in general; but Princess Hildwyn is wholly mine.**

**I'll get out of your way now ;)**

**Chapter 3: Feeling Hope**

Fandral woke with an only slightly throbbing head and a faint twinge in his side. He was lying in a bed in one of the Palace's Healing Rooms, his side bandaged and his tunic left open to allow the wound to breathe.

Barely any other beds in the Healing Room were filled, as far as he could see, and only a few Healers were there, going about their business around the beds.

"Awake, I see."

The voice came from behind him, and he started violently. A wary yet charming smile found its way onto his face as he saw who had spoken.

"Did you mean to frighten me into oblivion again, Princess? Or perhaps to death?"

Hildwyn smiled with a potent mix of innocence and slyness. "No. It was not my intent to frighten."

She glided away from the wall behind him to the foot of his bed, clad in flowing dark green, her fiery hair drifting about her ever-youthful face. Fandral clearly remembered a time when he had been smitten by her; she had hardly changed since then—if she had changed at all.

"I must say," she said, turning to him with a knowing smile, "I was particularly fascinated by your dreams."

Fandral was assailed by both anger and dread. "May I ask what you could have found fascinating in my dreams, Your Highness? And what could possibly have drawn your attention to mine in all of Asgard?"

As serene as ever, Hildwyn blithely ignored both the anger and the fear in Fandral's voice. "They clamored for my attention; it was impossible for me ignore them. They were the loudest—the most vivid—the most impassioned in all of Asgard's night-murmurings. Perhaps double the attractive force of most dreamers.

"So tell me, Fandral: who is the fair maiden with dark eyes and elfish smile?"

His jaw tightened and he looked away from her. _As if I would tell _Hildwyn_ about the Lady Darcy!_

"Perhaps I may be able to help you with the maiden."

Fandral regarded her warily and suspiciously. "Why would you wish to help me, Princess?"

"Because I wish to enjoy my own dreams in peace, without yours intruding on the force of their emotion." She smiled. "In truth, I _can_ help. I can bring you and the maiden together in your dreams. There you may talk together, grow to know one another."

"To what end? That I yearn for her in vain—or worse, that she grieve and pine for me in her turn? Earth is lost to us—to me. The way is closed."

Hildwyn shook her head, a compassionate expression on her face. "No; Earth is not lost. There is always hope. The way shall not remain closed forever."

Something stirred in Fandral's heart. "You believe that?"

"Yes. For now it is but an obstacle between you and the maiden. Bifrost was built; it can be again, if it is the All-Father's will. And there are other paths between the worlds that may not yet have been discovered. If you wish, I can bring you and the maiden together tonight. What is her name?"

"Darcy. The Lady Darcy."

"Does she have another name, like most Earth people do?"

Fandral racked his brain desperately, trying to remember. _We were only there for around the space of an hour! Valhalla help me! Were we even properly introduced?_

And then the name came to him like an answer to a prayer.

"Lewis. The Lady Darcy Lewis."

The Princess nodded. Her hands glowed with a pale blue light, and Fandral felt his eyelids droop as he sank into sleep.

He found himself in a wooded glade, the sun shining down through the trees and turning their leaves to a brilliant green. At the center of the glade was a fountain, its water sparkling with many colors even without the aid of the sunlight. A sweet smell came from it, scenting the air of the glade with clear, clean freshness. He thought he recognized the fountain from the lore of Asgard, but he could not place it.

He realized that his bloodstained clothes were gone. By Hildwyn's grace, he was clad in clothes fit for a prince: a tunic of the deep blue-green color he favored, but in a richer style and fabric than his pocket could normally sustain, with some sparse silver embroidery here and there; his breeches were black, and over them were polished, knee-high black boots. His sword was belted at his side, and a dark blue-green cloak was fastened about his shoulders. Fandral felt his heart quicken in alarm, for it was in the same royal, sweeping style usually accorded only to Thor, Loki and Odin.

_Does Hildwyn know what she has done? Is it within her power to grant me this honor?_

A slight movement from behind the fountain on the other side of the glade interrupted his thoughts, and his breath was instantly stolen away.

The Lady Darcy stood there in all the vibrant loveliness he remembered from when he had met her on Earth. Hildwyn had arrayed her in Asgardian fashion, in a flowing violet dress befitting a goddess; it was far from extravagant and enhanced her beauty instead of detracting from it with its lovely simplicity. And with it she wore the slim, elegant spectacles she had worn when he had met her.

"Lady Darcy," he said, bowing low to her. "I am Fandral the Dashing, of the Warriors Three. Perhaps you remember me from when I visited your planet to rescue my friend Thor?"

A look of amiable recognition appeared on her face.

"Fandral," she repeated. "Sure. I remember you. You're from Asgard, right?"

Fandral was delighted that she remembered. "Yes, my Lady."

"Where am I?"

"I do not know," he said truthfully.

She glanced down at herself and seemed to notice her dress for the first time. "Hmm. This is nice. Nicer than what I usually wear."

He couldn't help himself. "It is beautiful—_you_ are beautiful."

"Thank you," she said. She sounded delighted, flattered, and only a little shy—all at the same time.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment or two.

"How fares the Lady Jane and the Doctor Selvig? How goes your work with the Shield Warriors?"

The Lady pulled a face. "If you mean S-H-I-E-L-D, the 'Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division', they're leaving us alone for now. They're on orders from Director Fury to let Jane and Erik do their research—because it will eventually benefit everyone, apparently. Director Fury really wants to get in touch with your buddy Thor, and Jane wants to reach him even more badly. She really misses him, you know."

Fandral felt a stab of pity and compassion for the Lady Jane. "Thor misses her as well. Very much so."

"Jane works longer hours than Erik or me. She's trying really hard to find the right research for the Einstein Rosen-Bridge."

"Would that be your equivalent of the Bifrost? The Lady Jane seeks to build her own?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what it is."

She sighed, "I wish I had my iPod."

No sooner had she said it than a small, flat, rectangular object appeared in her hand, with a long white cord dangling from one end.

He instantly recalled Thor's account of the device. "Ah, yes—a device that makes music, am I correct?"

She gave him an odd smile. "Yeah."

Fandral had the feeling that most people on Earth knew what an 'iPod' was.

"Do you think me strange?"

Her smile was kind this time. "A little, yeah."

She picked up two little round white buds that were attached to the end of the cords—for now he saw that there were two and the white cord split in half somewhere in the middle. She inserted the buds into the hollow of her ears, and looked intently at the rectangular device in her hand.

Fandral wasn't quite sure what to do. The Lady seemed very self-sufficient and capable of keeping herself occupied. He suddenly doubted very much that he could impress her for very long with tales of his exploits with Thor, Hogun, Volstagg and Sif—as he had done with Asgardian maidens. He felt very much out of his depth…but at the same time he was overcome by an overwhelming desire to earn a place in her good graces.

_How do I proceed?_

But then the Lady Darcy turned to him with a sweet smile, taking one of the little white buds and offering it to him.

"Do you wanna listen, too?"

His heart skipped one beat and rushed into a faster rhythm.

"I would be honored, my Lady."

He took the little white bud from her and put it into the hollow of his ear like he had seen the Lady do, but it fell out as soon as he removed his fingers. He tried a few more times, after which the Lady laughed and picked up the white bud herself.

"Here, let me."

She slid it into his ear and positioned it deftly; it felt as if it fitted the contours of his ear perfectly, and he felt his blood burn under the skin she had touched.

"You ready?"

"Of course, my Lady."

The Lady prodded the device in her hand, and his ear was instantly filled with music. It was vastly different from the style practiced in Asgard, but it was pleasant to hear. The man singing did so with a clarity and vivacity that made Fandral's heart light.

"_I'm not surprised not everything lasts_

_I've broken my heart so many times I've stopped keeping track_

_I've talked myself in_

_I've talked myself out_

_I get all worked up then I let myself down_

_I've tried so very hard not to lose it_

_I came up with a million excuses_

_I thought I thought of every single possibility_

_And I know someday it'll all turn out_

_And you'll make me work so we can work to work it out_

_And I promise you, kid_

_I give so much more than I get_

_I just haven't met you yet."_

That last sentence rang true with something in Fandral's heart. He glanced at the Lady beside him. She was smiling and singing and weaving in rhythm with the music—always just within the range the white cord would allow. Her voice was beautiful; she sang well, and she clearly knew the song. He listened to both the singer and to her, trying to watch her as discreetly and tactfully as he could.

When the song ended, the Lady faced him with a smile.

"Is this much different from the music in Asgard?"

"Yes, it is," said Fandral truthfully. "But it is as pleasant to hear as the music I am used to.

And you sing beautifully, my Lady."

The Lady gave a light, short laugh. "I like you, Fandral Dashing."

He didn't have the heart to correct her.

**Reviews help keep the updates coming, boys and girls! I'd really appreciate it if you took the time to drop a line telling me if you like this story!**

**Warmest Regards,**

**Bella**


	4. Sneak Peek and Author's Note

**Bella here, everyone. It is with great regret that I announce that there will be no new chapter this week. A lot of things happened, and well...you know how that goes. But I will not leave you with nothing ;)**

**Here is a sneak peek of the coming chapter, and I thought I'd leave it with you a day earlier than usual.**

**Thank you for the kind review, introspectivesubwaystations! I promise I'm not done...not by a long shot, just derailed for a week...**

**Note: I don't own Thor, blah-de-blah, boo-hoo :(**

Fandral woke gasping, his chest heaving at a rapid pace, and a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He glared at Hildwyn as he registered her sitting in a chair next to his bed.

"Why did you bring me back so soon?"

Hildwyn raised an eyebrow. "You call ten hours a short time? It is the ninth hour of the morning."

"I was slumbering for that long? It seemed only minutes…"

"Time passes differently in the dream world."

"Please, Princess, send me back."

"Your lady will most likely be awake now, Fandral. Besides, you should take your breakfast.

But—if you wish me to continue, there is something I will require of you."

"Name it."

Hildwyn's expression became serious. "You must swear to me that you will bind yourself solely to your Lady. You shall be no longer free to pursue any Asgardian.

Or you can decide to sever ties with the Earth maiden, and when Bifrost opens again your sworn oath shall keep you from her forever. You must choose one or the other; you cannot have both."

After the initial surge of shock, Fandral experienced a conflict of feelings. _There will be no turning back from this. A promise made to Hildwyn will be a promise kept. The Queen her sister is surety of that._

_If I choose the Lady Darcy, I shall be a fox trapped in a butcher's shop with everything out of reach…she shall be on Earth , while I am here on Asgard with no hope of reaching her any time soon…_

_But if I do not choose Lady Darcy…_

He saw himself in a circle of adoring Asgardian maidens, and it suddenly made him feel hollow. A vision of the Lady Darcy and a tall, faceless Earth stranger appeared in his mind; she laughing and merry, he calm and charming and assured as he paid court to her. A fire woke in Fandral's veins and his blood burned; he clenched his hand even though it had only been a picture in the mind.

Hildwyn was watching him with an amused and knowing smile.

_My choice is clear. I cannot but choose her. I may drive myself mad with either decision, but if I choose her…there is always the hope that the way to Earth shall open._

Her parting words echoed in his ears. _See ya around, Fandral Dashing_.

His resolve steeled, and he looked up at Hildwyn. "I choose her. I choose the Lady Darcy."

Hildwyn smiled and extended a hand to him. "Then swear it."

**Tell me what you think! Never be shy! It will all help: good, bad, and ugly.**

**Bella**


	5. Chapter 4: A Sworn Oath

**Bella's back, everybody! I hope you had a very nice Christmas and New Year's holiday, and I return with Chapter Four of There's Always Hope. I 'hope' ;) you all enjoyed the preview I released last week; hopefully it was enough to tide you all over to this week.**

**A special thank you to _introspectivestations_ for the kind review. I 'm glad you're enjoying the ride!**

**Once again, I thank my beta team for persevering with me; BlackMarketTrombones, Kell/KnightMistress, RandomFanatic, and BeautifulStormMunroe, your constructive criticism and unflagging encouragement make this story possible!**

**Note: Again, I don't own Thor, Fandral, blah-blah-blah :P But I am extremely satisfied that I was the first to think up Princess Hildwyn ;)**

**Chapter 4: A Sworn Oath **

Fandral felt everything begin to fade and the pull of wakefulness took hold of him. He fought it with all of his strength, clinging to this wonderful dream-place with all the will he possessed.

_No! I cannot leave now!_

Lady Darcy was gazing down at her music device and seemed oblivious to his struggle.

He realized that he was going to lose. The pull was too strong, and he was too weak—probably due to his sparring wound.

"Forgive me, my Lady," he gasped at last. "I fear—I fear I must—leave you…"

A look of concern appeared on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes—I shall be—farewell, my Lady—"

"Oh well, all right then."

Her face—wreathed in an amiable smile—was the last thing he saw before whiteness consumed his vision, and her voice the last thing he heard before all sound was lost.

"See ya' around, Fandral Dashing."

He woke gasping, his chest heaving and his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. He glared at Hildwyn as he registered her sitting in a chair next to his bed.

"Why did you bring me back so soon?"

Hildwyn raised an eyebrow. "You call ten hours a short time? It is the ninth hour of the morning."

"I was slumbering for that long? It seemed only minutes…"

"Time passes differently in the dream world."

"Please, Princess, send me back."

"Your lady will most likely be awake now, Fandral. Besides, you should take your breakfast. But—if you wish me to continue, there is something I will require of you."

"Name it."

Hildwyn's expression became serious. "You must swear to me that you will bind yourself solely to your Lady Darcy. You shall be no longer free to pursue any Asgardian. Or you can decide to sever ties with the Earth maiden, and when Bifrost opens again your sworn oath shall keep you from her forever. You must choose one or the other; you cannot have both."

After the initial surge of shock, Fandral was overwhelmed by conflicting feelings. _There will be no turning back from this. A promise made to Hildwyn will be a promise kept. The Queen her sister is assurance of that._

_If I choose the Lady Darcy, I shall be a fox trapped in a butcher's shop with everything out of reach…she shall be on Earth, while I am here on Asgard with no hope of reaching her any time soon, surrounded by maidens I will have sworn off forever…_

_But if I do not choose Lady Darcy…_

He saw himself in a circle of adoring Asgardian maidens, and it suddenly made him feel hollow. A vision of the Lady Darcy and a tall, faceless Earth stranger appeared in his mind; she laughing and merry, he calm and charming and assured as he paid court to her. A fire woke in Fandral's veins and his blood burned; he clenched his hand even though it had only been a picture in the mind.

Hildwyn was watching him with an amused and knowing smile.

_My choice is clear. I cannot but choose her. I may drive myself mad with either decision, but if I choose her…there is always the hope that the way to Earth shall open._

Her parting words echoed in his ears. _See ya around, Fandral Dashing_.

His resolve steeled, and he looked up at Hildwyn. "I choose her. I choose the Lady Darcy."

Hildwyn smiled and extended a hand to him. "Then swear it."

Fandral took her hand with the same one of his, locking them together at the thumbs.

Hildwyn began. "Do you, Fandral of Asgard, swear to bestow your affections solely upon the Lady Darcy Lewis of Earth?"

"I swear."

Hildwyn's blue light began to glow between their clasped hands.

"Do you swear to renounce the maidens of Asgard, your home, for her sake?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to keep these vows—until death or the lady herself breaks them?"

Fandral clenched his free hand. "I, Fandral of Asgard, so swear."

"Then do I, Hildwyn Fjorgynnsdaughter, swear to uphold the path between dreams for you, Fandral of Asgard, and the Lady Darcy Lewis of Earth, until love be found and bonded strong, or else lost forever."

The blue light between their clasped hands flashed brighter, and the outline of a glowing blue rune appeared on the back of Fandral's hand. It was the symbol of true, everlasting love, particularly love given with a promise.

The light between their hands faded, and Hildwyn released his hand. The rune dimmed as she did so, until it was no longer visible. Fandral rubbed the place on his skin where it had been, but he felt nothing.

"It is still there."

He looked up at Hildwyn.

"It shall always be there until you reach each other at last, or the lady herself makes an end of your vows."

The Princess withdrew from around her neck the chain of a brilliant sapphire the size and shape of a small, flattened egg, and held it out to him.

"Keep this with you. I shall arrange for a small chamber to remain in readiness here in the Healing Rooms for you; no one shall disturb you here, and you may come every night to meet your Lady if you wish. The sapphire shall apprise me of your desire to do so."

Fandral felt overwhelmed by gratefulness at her generosity. From his seat in bed, he could not bow, but his inclined his head deeply to her.

"Thank you, Princess."

She smiled at him. "If I am not mistaken, your Healer is coming to dismiss you. I bid you good day and farewell, for now."

Upon the approaching footsteps of the Healer, Fandral bowed his head to her again and she nodded as she prepared to leave the Room.

The Healer bobbed a curtsy to her. "Princess Hildwyn. A very good day to you, my Lady."

"Good day to you as well, Healer Naneth."

The Princess nodded kindly to her and glided away, disappearing through the door of the Room.

The Healer immediately began bustling around him, checking his bandages and feeling his pulse, and his forehead for temperature.

"How do you fare this morning, Master Fandral?"

"Better, thank you."

"That is good."

She handed him a small vial containing a bright golden liquid.

"Drink this, and I believe you shall be well enough to go your way this morning."

Fandral accepted the vial from her and downed it at a mouthful. The vial was warm in his hand but the potion was cold as it hit his mouth and throat; it tasted sharp and clear, but clean, making him cough and gasp as it went down.

The Healer chuckled. "It has a frosty little bite to it, does it not?"

"Yes," Fandral croaked.

"Well, Master Fandral, I am pleased that you are recovering well. I release you from my care, but I would have you see me at least once a day for the next three days so I may ensure that you heal completely."

"Thank you, Healer Naneth. It shall be as you wish; I shall return once in each of the next three days."

S S S S S

Fastening the chain of Hildwyn's sapphire around his neck, Fandral made his way out of the Healing Rooms. No sooner was he through the doors than he almost ran down Thor on the other side.

"Your pardon, Thor!"

"I crave _your_ pardon, my friend," Thor said with a short laugh. "I was just coming to see you. I visited you last night but you were still senseless.

"How are you?"

"Mending."

"Sif and Hogun told me that you were well-nigh dead from exhaustion on the sparring grounds yesterday—that you had essentially challenged every warrior in Asgard…Does something trouble you, Fandral?"

Fandral opened his mouth to say "No," but the concern in Thor's eyes made him pause. _In all of Asgard, Thor is perhaps the one person who can truly recognize where I stand_.

"Is there somewhere we can go to speak privately?"

"Of course. I am on my way to—to Loki's rooms. Will you come with me?"

"Certainly."

Together they left the Healing Rooms behind, making their way through the Palace hallways to the East Tower, where Loki's rooms were.

When they reached the more quiet and deserted corridors, Fandral said, "Thor, why do you come here? Do you seek something?"

"Yes. Hope. Loki told Heimdall that there are other paths between the worlds besides the Bifrost. I hope to find something—anything—that will help me reach Earth."

The memory of Hildwyn's voice rang out inside Fandral's head. _And there are other paths between the worlds that may not yet have been discovered_.

_Can it be?_ Fandral thought. _Dare I hope?_

Thor murmured words so quietly that they were almost inaudible.

"I gave her my word."

But then he straightened and smiled as he glanced at Fandral. "Forgive me, Fandral. I cannot ask you to understand my reasons—or understand what drives me."

Fandral squeezed his shoulder. "But I do understand. Do what you must, my friend. The lady herself works just as hard."

Thor stared at him, and he realized what he had just said.

"How do you know that?"

"Uhhh…I do not. I presume—you said the Lady Jane is a woman of science, of action."

"She is."

Thor's expression became grave, almost sad. "I have no doubt that you are right, Fandral. Jane is a hard worker, and I am certain that she toils many hours of every day to perfect her rainbow bridge. She was well on the road to its discovery when I left her."

"Loki knew more secrets than we were aware of, my friend. Let us hope that we may find one that will help us bridge the chasm between you and the Lady Jane."

_And between the Lady Darcy and myself_.

**I love to read reviews with a good cup of coffee, every last one-good, bad, and ugly. They are the spice of my writer's life, and I am thankful to everyone who ever wrote one for this story!**

**Bella**


	6. Chapter 5: To Cure A Headache

**Bella bouncing back! I present yet another chapter to help you beat the January winter blues.**

**My warmest thank-yous go out to Verity Kindle, Ox King, katididnot, introspectivesubwaystations, and nolieftcupcakes for the kind reviews and yes, the "Good Jobs" ;-) I really appreciate the feedback from all you guys, and it's been doubly awesome for me that it's all positive! ;D**

**I send out my weekly shoutout to my beta team of BlackMarketTrombones, Kell/KnightMistress, RandomFanatic and BeautifulStormMunroe for the reviewing and beta-ing that they've done. I couldn't have ever hoped to present this story with the quality I do without the help you've given me. I appreciate it all the more since it was given freely!**

**Note: I do not and I never have owned Thor, Fandral & Co. :-( But however I do own Princess Hildwyn Fjorgynnsdaughter O_O and Idetha :P**

**And so:**

**Chapter 5: To Cure A Headache**

The walls of Loki's rooms were lined with bookshelves and niches for scrolls. One of the rooms was a labyrinth of bookshelves standing tall up to the ceiling and alcoves filled with rolls and rolls of parchment both old and new.

The sight filled Fandral with something between dismay and despair.

_There must be thousands and thousands of tomes here! It will take Thor and me nigh forever to look through them all! Will we even find one that will help us? What if we miss it among all the others?_

"You search this room for now," said Thor. "I shall take the one next door."

Fandral hated reading as a child, but now he thanked the unbending will of his mother and father that had forced him to learn. As he slowly scanned the shelves and looked over parchments it became clear that Loki had been far from careless and untidy when it came to organizing his vast library; the books and scrolls were arranged alphabetically…by subject, it seemed. He saw volumes on fauna and plant life, works of fiction and history, even tomes of poems, but nothing about the arcane or spells or paths to other worlds.

He searched the shelves for what seemed like hours, stubbornly holding to his task; but after a while letters began to drift in and out of focus, ordinary words like 'and' started to look strange, and a dull ache began to grow behind his eyes.

Just when he had to steady himself against a bookcase from actual dizziness, Thor appeared in the doorway.

"Unless you have found something, I think we should stop, my friend. We have done enough for today. Fandral…are you well?"

"It is nothing. I am all right."

"You were just released from the Healer's care today. Perhaps I should not have asked you to help me…"

"No! I am well, Thor. I am glad to be of help. But—"

He paused at a loud growling sound coming from his stomach.

Thor grinned. "_You_ may be all right, my friend, but I fear your stomach disagrees with you. Let us go find something to appease it."

SSS

They found that the day was indeed late when they reached the Great Hall. By Thor's estimation, they had spent a good seven hours of the day searching Loki's vast library and Fandral's stomach protested loudly the moment Thor stated the fact. Fortunately the Palace cooks were more than happy to attend to them.

"So tell me, Fandral—what has been troubling you?" Thor said as they settled down into a more sedate eating pace.

Fandral paused for a moment. "In truth…I confess I feel an attraction to the Lady Darcy, Lady Jane's friend."

He braced for some kind of raucous jest or display of disbelief, but Thor was silent, regarding him with an expression of compassion.

"Indeed? When did you realize it?"

"The night Loki—the night of the feast."

"Mmm. So that is why you were so eager to help me search Loki's library."

Fandral grinned sheepishly and nodded.

"I understand, my friend. If you wish to continue to work together, I would welcome the help."

"Of course, and…thank you."

"For what?"

"For…had I told them, I think Sif and Volstagg would have laughed at me, and Hogun…well, _you_ understand, and I thank you."

Thor clapped him on the arm. "Any time."

"Fandral? Fandral!"

He flinched at the sound of the girlish squeal and turned to see Idetha rushing across the Great Hall towards them.

"Where have you been? I have not seen you since the feast the other night!"

She saw Thor, and bobbed a quick curtsey. "Your Highness."

Thor nodded politely. "Lady Idetha."

Idetha bounced over and claimed the seat next to Fandral. "So Volstagg was telling the most heroic tales of the five of you at the feast—when you went to Jotunheim and Midgard. Is it true that you felled the Destroyer by hurling Volstagg at it? Did you really slay a score of Jotuns single-handedly? They say _you_ were the one who made peace with Midgard's Shield-Warriors—did you? With the help of Prince Thor of course, saving your reverence, Your Highness—"

Fandral couldn't stop himself. "Pardon me, Idetha, but it appears you are the victim of faulty information. _Thor_ defeated the Destroyer, and it was _Thor_ who made peace with Earth's Shield-Warriors. I was merely his companion and fought alongside him."

This did not shake Idetha's enthusiasm one bit. "Oh, so modest! It is one of the things I admire about you, Fandral. But surely you played a larger part than you say! Prince Thor, Prince Loki and the Warriors Three surely would not have survived Jotunheim if not for your valor! The Jotuns' reputation for fierceness in battle is assuredly not for nothing!"

She continued in this strain for a while. The dull ache behind Fandral's eyes returned in earnest, and he became aware that he was rapidly descending into bad temper. A glance in Thor's direction revealed him tapping a finger on the table in an increasingly fast tempo with an ever-deepening scowl.

After a few minutes, Fandral could take it no longer and stood up abruptly. "I apologize if I am rude, Lady Idetha, but there is some business I need to attend to. Perhaps we shall see each other again later on. Good day to you, my Lady."

As he made her a short bow, Thor rose also. "Lady Idetha."

"Oh, g-good day Your Highness…I hope to see you again soon, Fandral! I shall want to hear your account of the Jotunheim and Midgard adventures…"

As they moved further away toward the Great Hall doors, Fandral clenched his fists and hissed, "_Earth!_ _NOT Midgard!_"

Thor forcefully rubbed a hand across his eyes. "What business did you mean to attend to?"

"Getting a drink," Fandral growled.

"Excellent plan."

They made their way out of the Palace into Asgard, to the Golden Hammer—a tavern that proudly claimed Thor's patronage since he had come of age, and was regularly frequented by the Warriors Three. There, Thor and Fandral were soon in better spirits.

Draining his glass at a draught, Fandral groaned, "I tell you, I am at my wit's end! I swear I never encouraged the girl, and the more I try to slip away from her the more she tightens her grip! And she _never stops talking!_"

Thor laughed and slapped him on the back. "Do you want my advice? Next time she catches you, slip a strong sleeping potion in her drink! I wager she will quiet down then!"

Fandral chuckled. "Can you advise a good enough potion for me?"

"I fear I cannot, my friend. Potions and herbology have always left me sadly befuddled."

"More than the ale you are drinking by the cask?"

"Nonsense! No one and no ale in the Nine Realms can best me!"

"Do not let Volstagg hear you, Thor—he might be tempted to contest that."

"Let him try," Thor snorted into another tankard.

At that moment Fandral happened to glance out one of the Hammer's windows, and he was just in time to see the sun's last rays flash over the horizon.

_Hildwyn—dream—Lady Darcy!_

He practically tripped over his chair in his haste to go.

"Your pardon, Thor, but I must leave you. I have an important engagement—er, matter to take care of. Good night!"

He hurried to the door of the Hammer so quickly he only faintly caught Thor's "Good night, Fandral." Stumbling out of the Hammer onto the street, he ran back toward the Palace. By the time he passed the sentinels at the gates his breath was already coming in gasps, but he pushed on—past the sparring grounds and the doors of the Great Hall, never stopping until he reached the doors of the Healing Rooms.

Accosting the first Healer he met, he gasped, "Your pardon, madam…the Princess Hildwyn…has she left a…room for me?"

"Lord Fandral?" said the girl.

"Yes, madam…"

"Follow me," she said.

The young Healer led the way down the main hallway of the Healing Rooms and down a side corridor, stopping at the very last door.

"Here you are, my Lord. The Princess left instructions that none were to pass the door while you are inside. You shall not be disturbed."

"Thank you."

"May you rest well, my Lord."

As he closed the door, Fandral took in his surroundings. The room was small, with one bed of respectable-looking comfort in one corner and a smoldering fireplace in another, with the moon shining brightly through a window that faced east. A folded piece of parchment lay on a small table standing near the bed. In steadily flowing script the message read:

**_I trust the room is to your liking. I ensured that the sun would be the one to wake you so that you would suffer no annoyance from me._**

**_Hildwyn_**

His lungs were still burning, but he managed a chuckle as he sat down on the bed and pulled out the sapphire that she had given him from under his tunic collar.

_All right…now what?_

"Princess…? Hildwyn? I wish to meet the Lady Darcy in the realm of dreams."

The sapphire glowed in his hand and a wave of sleepiness washed over him; but just before unconsciousness overtook him he felt a stab of joy and excitement.

_Thank you, Hildwyn…_

**When you leave reviews, you tell me whether or not you like this story and where it's going. Every bit helps me make this a better story, whether it be good or bad, positive or negative. I highly value every line you guys drop me; I say it often, but I hope you guys know it!**

**Bella**


	7. Chapter 6: Call Me Darcy

**Bella again, people! I bring you yet another chapter, and I just want to thank those of you who have been dying to see more Fandral/Darcy, and patiently waiting while following the path of the story. But guess what? Heeeeeeere's-Darcy!**

**Rosie the rioter, here you go! ;-D**

**introspectivesubwaystations, I hope you like this dream sequence :-) **

**Aggiebell (a.k.a. Julie), welcome to the Asgard Marvel-verse! I'm glad you're enjoying the ride, and thank you for the wonderful grammatical compliments!**

**BlackMarketTrombones, Kell/KnightMistress, RandomFanatic and BeautifulStormMunroe, I hope you're not getting tired of my weekly thank-yous! I mean them with all my heart, and I value all the help you've given me :-D**

**Note: I don't own Thor, Fandral, etc., blah-blah-blah; you can rest easy, Stan Lee. But I am very happy that I own Princess Hildwyn...(evil face)...mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!**

**So...**

**Chapter 6: Call Me Darcy**

"He did _what_?" Darcy gasped.

Fandral himself was laughing almost too hard to get the story out. "Tumbled backwards off his stool, dead drunk—almost literally!"

The Lady was shaking with laughter, one hand clamped over her stomach.

"I was certain I was doomed—we had all gambled and lost, and I would forfeit my arm as a result. But then Thor stepped up and offered another deal: if he won a contest against Siegfried, I would keep my arm; if he lost, both of us would lose an arm. Sif, Hogun and I all tried to stop him, tried to tell him that he could not possibly hope to succeed where Volstagg had failed, but he would not listen to us.

"I braced myself for our impending doom as he sat down opposite Siegfried. Asgard's Healers can mend a deadly wound in minutes, but they cannot grow back a sword-arm! Then the mediator told Thor to choose the ale for the contest, and he chose _the Earth-Shaker's Mead!_ With _all _of Vanaheim's finest laid out before him, he chooses _that_ one! I thought he was mad, and even Siegfried looked a little taken aback at his choice."

"Why?"

"The Earth-Shaker's Mead is one of the strongest brews in existence. I myself have never finished one tankard of it, I am barely half-way when it brings me to my knees. The mediator gave Siegfried a potion that removed the effects of his contest with Volstagg, and they began. I steeled myself for what was to come, wondering if it was possible to train my left to do what my right has always done best, when Sif jabbed me in the ribs, hissing, 'They are past the half-way mark!'

"I could not believe my eyes. Thor was calmly taking one long draught from his tankard, which was already half-empty, and although Siegfried was matching him he was looking a little dazed. A few more gulps had him blinking and shaking his head somewhat stupidly, but Thor was still as fresh as when he started. I started to hope that perhaps at the very least he could outlast Siegfried, when Thor too began to show the effects of the ale. They both drained their tankards, plunked them down on the table, and as the mediator poured them both more ale they seemed to be trying to stare each other down. Then Siegfried laughed and when he spoke it was so incoherent that I just barely made out what he said: 'Do you think you can beat me, Odin's boy? I bested your fat friend; it will be an easy matter to outlast you as well.'

"And then, with a satisfied grin on his face, he tumbled backwards off his stool, just as Volstagg had!"

The Lady had both hands over her mouth, but it barely muffled the sounds of her laughter.

Fandral paused a moment to catch his breath. "Ever since then I have never questioned Thor's prowess, let alone challenged him."

Although she was still smiling, the Lady regained her composure. "Jane told me he actually carried Erik home after something similar to that happened. You Asgardians certainly are tougher than we are."

Fandral caught himself just in time before he made a boast about Asgardians' constitutions—or worse, himself. He hastened to change the subject.

"Tell me about yourself, my Lady. Tell me all the fascinating things there are to know about you."

The Lady looked down momentarily with a short laugh. "There's not much to tell…I like to listen to Colbie Caillat and Jason Mraz, I'm crazy about the Hunger Games, and I love black cherry ice cream—"

Fandral must have had a very perplexed look on his face because the Lady stopped herself.

"You don't know what any of these things are, do you?"

"I fear I do not, my Lady."

"Well, Colbie Caillat's a girl singer, and I actually have some of her songs on my iPod, and Jason Mraz is a guy singer. The Hunger Games is an awesome book I'm just nuts over right now; it's about a sixteen-year-old girl named Katniss who volunteers to take her sister's place in the annual Hunger Games, which is basically a fight to the death—"

"Children? Going into battle?" Fandral said, his brows furrowing.

And so the Lady told him the fascinating, riveting tale of a land ruled by a cruel Capitol, twenty-four boys and girls who go to die so one can win, and a courageous girl who defied the Capitol and its Games.

Fandral sighed as the Lady finished. "What a marvelous tale. I am not much of a reader, but I would have read that book with relish."

"There are two more, actually."

"Indeed? Have you read them?"

"No. I just finished The Hunger Games recently. I haven't had a chance to start Catching Fire yet."

No sooner had the words left the Lady's mouth when an object appeared on the grass between them. It was a book with a brilliant red cover—red as fire, bearing the image of a dark-grey bird and the words "Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins." It was smaller than most books Fandral was accustomed to, but the Lady snatched it up as if it was a priceless treasure.

"This is it! Do you…would you like to read it with me?"

"It would be a pleasure, my Lady."

The Lady cocked her head at him. "Darcy. Call me Darcy. It's only fair."

Fandral smiled. "Very well then, Darcy."

She beamed at him and opened the book, turning the pages eagerly, but her face quickly fell.

"Wha—why's it blank? Where are all the words?"

She turned the pages of the book rapidly, but they were no words on any of them.

It was then that everything began to dim, and Fandral once again felt the fading of the dream-world. This time he did not fight it, for he knew he could not win.

"Perhaps I may read the book with you some other time, my Lady. I fear I must go."

The Lady glanced up from the book in her lap. "_Darcy_. Remember? You're supposed to call me Darcy."

"Of course, forgive me. I hope I shall see you again soon, Darcy."

He loved the name. He loved that she had asked him to use it, as if he were her good friend. That was the thought in his head as he woke to golden sunshine pouring in through the window and the warm tingle of the sapphire sitting on his chest.

_Hildwyn, I will be forever grateful…_

SSS

As he made his way through the hallways of the Healing Rooms, he had the good fortune to come across the young Healer he had met the night before.

"Good morning, madam. May I ask your aid with something?"

"Of course, my Lord! How was your rest?"

Fandral couldn't help the broad smile that came to his face. "Whole and peaceful, thank you."

The young Healer beamed. "That is good to hear! Nothing warms my heart like the news that weary and wounded have found healing."

"I seek Healer Naneth, madam. Do you know where I may find her?"

"Certainly. I shall take you to her."

She led the way to a room which very well may have been the one in which he had healed from his sparring wound and sworn his oath to Hildwyn.

"Naneth, Lord Fandral wishes to speak with you."

The elder Healer patted the shoulder of the younger with a kind smile. "Thank you, Eorwen."

Eorwen bowed once to Fandral and departed. Naneth regarded him with pleasure.

"I am pleased that you remembered, Master Fandral. Few warriors in my care have ever returned willingly once I had released them."

"I gave you my word, Healer Naneth. And here I am."

She examined his wound, which was now nothing more than a clean, bright pink mark on his skin, and made him drink a clear potion that was so pungent it made tears roll down his face. While Fandral was still blinking and coughing, she dabbed up the tears on his cheeks with a handkerchief and inspected the wet spots on the cloth.

"Tears are clear. Good, no infection. You are healing well, Master Fandral. Now, just one more potion."

It was the same golden, biting-cold potion she had given him before, and Fandral gasped and choked it down in much the same manner.

"Must I continue to drink _that_?"

"It is for your continued healing. It is also what enabled your wound to heal at the pace it did."

"Very well. I expect I shall endure it again tomorrow."

SSS

Fandral's heart was light and he could not stop smiling as he walked along the Palace corridors. It was early, and he guessed that it could not have been later than the eighth hour of the morning. There would be few people in the Great Hall at this hour, and his friends would not be there yet. Hogun and Sif had undoubtedly risen by now, but Volstagg was probably still sleeping; it was very unlikely any of them would be present in the Great Hall at this hour. So it was with great surprise that he saw Thor sitting alone at one of the tables.

"Thor! You are early!"

Thor cracked a smile. "I am capable of rising early, Fandral."

"Since _when?_"

"What is your excuse?"

Fandral felt the blood rise to his cheeks and ears, and he was robbed of any answer for a minute or two.

"Fair enough."

They ate in silence for a few moments, and then Thor said, "Where did you go rushing off to last night? What was the hurry? You were not in your rooms." His brows furrowed. "Fandral, you told me that you were forming an attachment to the Lady Darcy. If you were telling me the truth, where were you last night? You were not…were you?"

"No!"

"Then where were you?"

Fandral was scrambling for a reply. _Dare I tell him? About my bargain with his…his _mother's sister_? Will he even believe me?_

"I…I made a bargain with your mother's sister, Thor, with Princess Hildwyn—"

"_What?_"

"Please, Thor, hear me before you judge me."

And so taking a leap of faith, Fandral told him everything. Thor listened without interrupting, but there was a growing disturbance in his face.

When he finished, Thor said, "Fandral, have I ever told you that Loki learned a great deal of magic from Hildwyn?"

"_What?_ What do you mean? But Hildwyn's powers exist only over dreams—"

"That is true. But I have to warn you about her, Fandral: She rarely performs favors without a hidden reason. She possesses a cunning mind that cannot be matched by any in Asgard, not even my father….save for Loki."

Fandral became painfully aware that he knew very little about Queen Frigga's sister. "You surely do not mean that she is e—"

"No! No, she is not, Fandral. You know full well that no evil can exist here in Asgard under my father's eye; and Hildwyn has shown in the past a capacity for compassion that no evil can ever touch. But she always has a reason for performing favors; sometimes it is indeed generous, and sometimes it is more…devious. Loki adored her, and I believe that his affection for her rivaled that he accorded our mother. She may not be evil, but what does that say about her?"

Fandral had no answer. _What in good Valhalla's name have I done?_

**I love that you guys are so free and generous with your reviews! Don't stop now! Let me know what you like/don't like/or...that you love Fandral/Darcy time, or hate me for keeping it so short...I wanna hear you all!**

**Bella ;-)**


	8. Chapter 7: An Unwelcome Face

**Bella reporting in with another chapter, everybody! I am just LOVING the enthusiasm from everybody, both the generous praise and honest critquing! Thank you for telling me exactly how and what you like in this story...or don't!**

**To _anon:_ I'm happy you love Fandral and Darcy as much as I do! I'd love to tell the story from the viewpoint of Darcy; I feel confident that I'd find her voice quite easily, but unfortunately I'd have to have facts that will only be revealed in The Avengers movie. :( Sorry! But if enough people ask for it, by the time I finish _There's Always Hope_, I may write a companion from Darcy's POV. How's that?**

**To Verity Kindle: Thank you for your faithful reviewing and following! Please forgive me when I say that I can only give you guys as much Fandral/Darcy as the story allows me! But, for your guys' sake, I shall push the limits as much as I can! I'm glad you're enjoying the ride, and thanks for the "good job"!**

**To my constant beta team of BlackMarketTrombones, KnightMistress/Kell, RandomFanatic and Beautiful Storm Munroe: Thanks so much for every minute of each day you use to review and beta my stuff! I truly appreciate it, and I hope you're enjoying the ride as much as I am! ;-D**

**Note: I don't own Thor, Fandral, Queen Frigga, yadda-yadda-yadda ;P But I do have complete ownership of Princess Hildwyn Fjorgynnsdaughter, the Healers Naneth and Eorwen, and...**

**Morwen Brehasdaughter O_o**

Chapter 7: An Unwelcome Face

Seeing his friend's distress, Thor relented. "I am not saying she has an ulterior motive for the deal she made with you, Fandral. I could be wrong. It very well may be that she genuinely wishes to help you."

"But what if she does not? What if you are right? Why _should_ she wish to help me and…and Darcy? What would she gain? I am no one to her! I am just the childhood friend of her sister's son…"

Thor looked mildly outraged. "Just? I should think you are as near family as any who are not blood-related can claim! Have you forgotten how you took that wound to the chest?"

"On Jotunheim?"

"No! The one just below your heart, you big oaf!"

Fandral was genuinely confused. "What wound?"

"You really do not remember? When we were seven—on Mirland Hills?"

"No."

"My mother used to speak of you so proudly because of it!"

"What in Valhalla's name are you talking about, Thor?"

"Do you not remember the days when we used to go on outings with my mother and Loki on Mirland Hills?"

"Of course I remember."

"You and I and Loki were seven years old, and on this particular day Hildwyn had chosen to accompany the four of us. We were all having a wonderful time; Hildwyn was mock-sparring you, Loki and me, and Mother was watching and laughing. But then we were attacked by a Skorgun Boar. It came out of nowhere it seemed, charging at us at full-speed—to stop several yards away as it pawed the ground. Hildwyn ordered all three of us to stay behind her with Mother, but we ignored her. _I_ at least ignored her; I do not presume to say that is what you and Loki did. You may not have heard her. At any rate, all of us charged the boar with our puny dagger-swords. I am sure you can imagine it: three small boys running at a monster twice our size. You reached the boar first, and it turned its attention to you. It gored you in the chest, Fandral, in the same moment you drove your sword through its eye. Even at seven years old you were a fearless swordsman, and you saved our lives."

Thor paused for a moment. "At least, that is how Mother tells it. For myself, I only remember bits and pieces of that day. Now that I consider it, I am not surprised you do not remember it at all. I remember being more afraid that day than I ever was in my entire life. Not of the boar, I would have done as you did had I reached it first and probably would have suffered your fate. That day I was afraid I would lose a friend.

"Hildwyn ran with you all the way back to Asgard. Mother told me that she reached the Healing Rooms just in time. According to Healer Naneth, a few more moments and you would have died."

Fandral's eyes widened. "_Healer Naneth_?"

"Yes. Why?"

"She was the Healer who tended my sparring wound a couple days ago."

"Perhaps she should become your own personal Healer."

"Oh, please! She has no mean skill, I grant you, but I do not intend on earning myself an injury every week! The sparring wound was a chance accident with—permitting conditions. Forgive me, my friend. I hinder you in your tale. You were speaking of Hildwyn."

"Yes. She treated Loki and me to quite a tirade when we returned to Asgard with Mother. Stormed at us for a while for not obeying her order and it was only when she pointed to your injury as the result of our combined foolishness that Mother was able to force her to calm down. But afterwards, she developed a special fondness for you."

"Who? The Queen?"

"No, Hildwyn."

"No!"

"Well, she regarded you with less annoyance than she used to. Perhaps that fondness is partially responsible for her desire to help you with Darcy. She regards you as family, but as a rule Hildwyn does not tend to socialize even with family very often."

Thor's words were somewhat reassuring, but Fandral could not shake the ominous effect of his previous warning.

Nevertheless, a broad grin came to his face and he brandished his fork in a dramatic fashion. "Well! I always knew I was…gifted with my choice of weapon, but I had no idea I was so talented as a youngster! Why have I never heard this tale before?"

"My mother and Hildwyn are the only ones who remember the event for themselves; Hildwyn as you know would be last to repeat such a tale, and my mother…she looks on you like a son, you know. She tells me that it frightened her for many years to even think of how close you came to death. I only heard it from her recently. You really have never heard the tale?"'

"No. And I have no memory of it."

Thor's brows furrowed. "Hmmm." Then he shrugged. "Well, we were children. It was a long time ago."

After the morning meal, Thor and Fandral went back to Loki's library to continue the search. Hours and hours of poring over countless titles produced no results. As far as either of them could tell, the library exhibited nothing extraordinary about Loki's voracious desire for knowledge.

"This is maddening!" Thor growled finally.

Fandral grunted a wordless assent and hurled some large volume on Alfheim fauna across the room. He found something satisfying in the way it thudded against the books on one shelf and toppled to the ground, pages flapping and rustling. It was then that a book titled _Analysis of Waking Dreams_ caught his eye, and an idea came to him.

"Thor…I hesitate to mention this, but have you considered asking Hildwyn if she has any such books, or better yet, some of Loki's?"

"I have. But I have no intention of going to her for this."

"We have searched Loki's library for two days and have found nothing! Perhaps she may be able to help us. What can she ask of you? You are her sister's son."

"You would be surprised. Ask Volstagg for his kidney pie story someday."

"_What_?"

"But you are right, Fandral. It very well may be that she can help, and mayhap we will be fortunate enough that she will require nothing in return. It will be good to get out of here. If I have to spend another day in here I fear I may go mad."

"Here, here!"

SSS

Fandral had never been to Hildwyn's tower in waking memory. It was wide rather than tall, and there were not many stairs to climb. The narrow passageway wound upwards past three doors, and they could soon hear the sounds of metal clashing on metal as they neared the fourth and last door at the very top.

They stopped, and Thor knocked loudly on the door. "My Lady Aunt?"

"Enter," came Hildwyn's voice from within, and as Thor opened the door the tip of a sword flashed through the air to freeze inches from his nose.

"Welcome, nephew," she said with an amiable smile, lowering the double-ended sword.

Fandral observed a gasping and wheezing young warrior in full armor at the other end of the room. He thought he recognized him as one of the newest champions that Asgard watched with eager eyes.

Hildwyn inclined her head to the young warrior. "Thank you, Eldred. That will be all for today."

Eldred bowed, still trying to catch his breath. "Good day, Your Highness."

He left the room, and Hildwyn's eyes fell on Fandral behind Thor. She raised an eyebrow at him as she smiled, and she motioned them both inside as she removed her sparring gloves and placed her sword in one of the many brackets around the room.

"Come in, boys. How may I be of service to you?"

Thor clasped his hands behind his back under his flowing red cloak. "Aunt…do you know if Loki kept books on magic?"

"Yes. He had a very extensive collection, and I daresay I myself contributed some of the volumes. I am guessing that you could not find it."

She looked straight at Fandral with a shrewd smile, and he knew that she at least guessed their purpose. He suppressed a sudden shiver.

"Fandral and I spent two days searching Loki's library and we have had no success."

"If you wish, I can show you where it is. Loki has offered me the use of his books more than once."

"That would be very kind of you, Aunt."

"As it happens I have an errand to his library that has come up quite recently, so it will be no trouble at all."

Fandral only just stopped himself from saying "What do you want in return?" It could have been just the effect of Thor's warning from earlier that day, but he thought he sensed a hidden intention beneath Hildwyn's offer.

She led the way back down her tower stairs and through the Palace to Loki's rooms, passing all the shelves filled with books and going straight to the very back room. Her gaze roved the shelves for a moment, and then she reached out and took hold of a book labeled _The Magic of Love_. She did not take it off the shelf, she just merely rocked it forward slightly, and then back into place again. There was a _click_ and the rumble and creak of gears, and the whole bookcase moved backward into the wall and slid aside to reveal a doorway into another room, so dark that you could not see into it. Hildwyn removed a lantern from the top of a nearby bookcase, opened its shutter and blew gently into it. A little green flame flickered to life inside it, and she led the way inside.

Crammed into this little room was every book of the arcane Fandral could ever have imagined. Almost every title he saw had the word _spell_ or _magic_ in it, and he could not hide a shiver this time. He was seized by the sudden feeling that no one should be in here.

Thor scanned the shelves eagerly, running his finger over the spines, and Fandral was reminded of the reason he was in this room. He hurried to aid his friend in the search, and almost immediately came upon a book that was titled _Magical Pathways_. It was not long before he and Thor had filled their arms with books bearing titles in accord with the magic they sought. Hildwyn however stood by, patiently waiting for them as she held the lantern.

"Could you not find the book you sought, Your Highness?"

"No, thank you, Fandral. It appears to be missing from Loki's collection. Perhaps I already borrowed it from him and forgot to return it, in which case it is probably among my own collection in my apartments."

Hildwyn closed the secret door behind them, and on extinguishing its light replaced the lantern on top of a bookcase.

"I bid you boys good day and farewell for now. It would appear that you have your own business to attend to, and so do I."

At that very moment a faint knock echoed through the air. It sounded as if it came from the door to Loki's rooms. Standing outside was a snow-haired young Asgardian beauty that Fandral recognized even over the enormous stack of books in his arms.

_Morwen_.

She however made no notice of him as she bowed to Hildwyn. "My Lady Princess, Her Majesty the Queen requests your presence immediately."

Hildwyn inclined her head to her. "Thank you, Morwen Brehasdaughter. I shall accompany you back to the Queen."

Morwen saw Thor and curtsied. "Your Highness."

"Lady Morwen," Thor said, bowing as best he could with the books in his arms.

And then she noticed Fandral. She cocked an eyebrow at the books he held, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Fandral."

"Lady Morwen," he said, parroting Thor as every substantial thought fled his mind.

He saw Hildwyn shoot him a keen and interested look as she walked away with Morwen, and he felt his cheeks flame.

Thor nudged him with his boot. "Fandral? What is the matter with you? Come on."

His steps felt mechanical as he moved away from Loki's rooms, as if someone else were moving his body for him. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears, so loudly that he feared Thor could hear it. His hands were sweaty, and he quickly adjusted the stack in his arms as it began to slip.

_It had to be her? The Queen could not have found some other maiden to send? _Anyone_ else? Did it have to be Morwen? Gods help me…help me stay strong, stay faithful!_

He clung to his memories of Darcy as a drowning man clings to a rope thrown to him for his rescue, for apart from her only one other maiden had ever held his heart prisoner: Morwen.


	9. Sneak Peek and Author's Note, 2

**Bella here, everyone. Unfortunately, I do not have a whole chapter for you this week. My mom was in a serious slip-and-fall accident this week and she injured her right elbow and hit her head, hard. She was in a coma for a total of four days, but she has since then woken up and has been convalescing for two. She has sustained no permanent brain damage, thank heaven, but her right arm will be useless for a few months. In addition to my college schoolwork I have been taking care of her, so I have gotten a minimum amount of writing done. But I have a sneak peek of the next chapter ready for you, and I hope that you'll forgive me for the delay.**

**Chapter 8: Something Strange Is Going On**

It did not take long to find Naneth, and she performed the same test with the clear, pungent potion that she had the day before. She nodded to herself as examined the tearstains on a handkerchief as Fandral coughed and massaged his stinging eyes.

"Your progress is good, Master Fandral. Just try to avoid too much strenuous activity."

She handed him the bitter-cold golden potion, and he hesitated before drinking it.

"Madam Naneth…I was sparring today, and I felt a twinge in the wound."

Her brows creased and her face became a little stern. "Let me see it."

He obediently lifted his tunic and Healer Naneth inspected the pink mark. Her fingers were cold as she probed it, but he suppressed the shiver. At length she straightened and her face was grave.

"It is a strain. Small, but a strain nonetheless. Please refrain for sparring or anything similar, Master Fandral. I realize that such a request is difficult to accept for you warriors, but I cannot promise you complete healing if you do not heed it."

Fandral dropped his eyes like a scolded schoolboy. "Yes, Healer Naneth. You have my word."

Her face softened a little and she patted his cheek. "That is all I ask. I fear I am growing fond of you, my boy."

She turned to leave, but at that moment the conversation he had with Thor that morning returned.

"Healer Naneth! Wait!"

"Yes, Master Fandral?"

"Do you…do you remember treating me when I was seven years old?"

"Certainly. Nasty case of sol fever, that was."

"No, madam…you treated me for a chest wound caused by a Skorgun Boar."

"Skorgun Boar! At seven years old? The Valkyrie preserve us, Master Fandral! I would have assuredly remembered that!"

She departed, shaking her head and murmuring something about vivid imaginations and warriors' insufferable boasting, leaving Fandral quite bewildered. He swallowed the bitterly cold golden potion, and spluttered and gasped as he made his way to his room in the Healing Rooms.

The moon had risen by the time he closed the door behind him. Its light shone brightly through the window, just about outstripping the light of the fire.

In spite of all, a smile found its way onto his face as he sat on the bed and pulled out the sapphire.

_At least I get to see Darcy tonight_.


	10. Chapter 8: Something Strange Is Going On

**Hi everyone, I give you: Chapter 8, and at long last some noticeable and considerable progress in Fandral and Darcy's relationship ;-D Thank you all for sticking with this story, and I really appreciate all the enthusiasm and reviews!**

**For Verity Kindle: I'm glad you're hating Morwen as much as I am! Believe me, if I had my way she wouldn't exist, but this story has a mind of its own and she just popped into my head one day. But I promise you this: I shall see to it that she gets EXACTLY what she deserves!**

**My never-ending thanks to those tireless members of my beta team who review my scribbles week after week! I'm glad to have you along for the ride, and I hope you've been enjoying it as much as I have!**

**Note: Once again, I don't own Thor and Fandral and Darcy, yeah, yeah, yeah. But I still retain ownership of Hildwyn Fjorgynnsdaughter, Naneth, Morwen Brehasdaughter (:-P) and Beohelm her brother (;-P ;-P)**

Chapter 8: Something Strange Is Going On

Once they were inside his apartments, Thor eagerly began to pore over the books they had retrieved from Loki's library. Fandral was just as feverish in the task, but for a slightly more different reason. He still reeled from the shock of seeing Morwen, and the emotional effects of the encounter had a terrible draining effect on him. Neither of them spoke as they leafed through chapter after chapter of Loki's magic books for the answer they both sought.

After a while it was clear to Fandral that the book-searching was not working. The sun was beginning its downward climb toward the horizon and he decided to take a walk, perhaps manage a sparring match if there was an opponent to be had in the grounds. His healing wound certainly had not pained him in the last two days or more…

"Thor, shall we continue this tomorrow? I fear I feel somewhat weary and I am certain I shall be almost useless to our search in such a state."

Thor set aside the book he had been examining and rose to grasp his hand. "Of course. Until tomorrow, Fandral."

"Until then."

SSS

As he wove his way through the Palace in the direction of the sparring grounds, one of the people passing by stopped and spoke.

"Fandral!"

It was Béohelm. Fandral stopped in acknowledgement of the hail, realizing a moment later that his hand had drifted to his sword-hilt.

"Béohelm."

"I have desired to speak with you ever since I heard you had been released from the Healing Rooms. I wish to offer my most earnest apologies for the blunder that caused your injury."

He bowed formally with his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity, but there was no remorse or contrition in his face. Just the courtesy and politeness one warrior is bound by honor to pay another. Fandral was suddenly reminded of the flash of triumph he had seen on Béohelm's face just before he collapsed from loss of blood on the day of the ill-fated, four-sword sparring match.

"No apology is necessary. Accidents happen, and bygones shall be bygones."

"It is quite generous of you to say so, Fandral. I understand you were in the care of one of the Healing Rooms' most skilled Healers. When I told my sister of your hurt, she did not believe me. 'I saw him today,' she said. 'He looked as hale as ever.'"

Fandral felt a jolt to the heart, and he barely had the self-command to incline his head even slightly to the other warrior. "Thank you for your concern, and pass my regards on to her."

Béohelm nodded courteously and passed on, leaving Fandral to make his way toward the sparring grounds in a haze.

_Why do the gods wish to torment me so this day? Have I not made my promise to Hildwyn, to remain faithful to one maiden only and swear off the rest? Why does Valhalla wish to now throw Morwen in my face? Have I not paid…and paid dearly?_

The only match he attempted was with Alfgund, the older brother of the young warrior Eldred who had sparred with Hildwyn earlier that day. It was during the fight that Fandral felt the first twinge of pain in his healing wound that he had experienced in days. He conceded the match to Alfgund, who looked as though he knew the reason. The mild slap he gave Fandral's shoulder certainly said as much. He wondered if he should tell Healer Naneth, and what she would say if he did.

It did not take long to find her, and she performed the same test with the clear, pungent potion that she had the day before. She nodded to herself as examined the tearstains on a handkerchief as Fandral coughed and massaged his stinging eyes.

"Your progress is good, Master Fandral. Just try to avoid too much strenuous activity."

She handed him the bitter-cold golden potion, and he hesitated before drinking it.

"Madam Naneth…I was sparring today, and I felt a twinge in the wound."

Her brows creased and her face became a little stern. "Let me see it."

He obediently lifted his tunic and Healer Naneth inspected the pink mark. Her fingers were cold as she probed it, but he suppressed the shiver. At length she straightened and her face was grave.

"It is a strain. Small, but a strain nonetheless. Please refrain for sparring or anything similar, Master Fandral. I realize that such a request is difficult to accept for you warriors, but I cannot promise you complete healing if you do not heed it."

Fandral dropped his eyes like a scolded schoolboy. "Yes, Healer Naneth. You have my word."

Her face softened a little and she patted his cheek. "That is all I ask. I fear I am growing fond of you, my boy."

She turned to leave, but at that moment the conversation he had with Thor that morning returned.

"Healer Naneth! Wait!"

"Yes, Master Fandral?"

"Do you…do you remember treating me when I was seven years old?"

"Certainly. Nasty case of sol fever, that was."

"No, madam…you treated me for a chest wound caused by a Skorgun Boar."

"Skorgun Boar! At seven years old? The Valkyrie preserve us, Master Fandral! I would have assuredly remembered that!"

She departed, shaking her head and murmuring something about vivid imaginations and warriors' insufferable boasting, leaving Fandral quite bewildered. He swallowed the bitterly cold golden potion, and spluttered and gasped as he made his way to his room in the Healing Rooms.

The moon had risen by the time he closed the door behind him. Its light shone brightly through the window, just about outstripping the light of the fire.

In spite of all, a smile found its way onto his face as he sat on the bed and pulled out the sapphire.

_At least I get to see Darcy tonight_.

SSS

"_President Snow rises and dabs his puffy lips with a napkin. 'Aim higher in case you fall short_.'

" '_What do you mean? How can I aim higher?' I ask._

" '_Convince _me_,' he says. He drops the napkin and retrieves his book. I don't watch him as he heads for the door, so I flinch when he whispers in my ear. 'By the way, I know about the kiss.' Then the door clicks shut behind him. The smell of blood…it was on his breath_."

Fandral's knuckles were white on his hilt of his sword as Darcy concluded her recital and looked up from the book's pages. "That man…is a _viper_."

Darcy made a noise of assent. "You said it! And well put since Suzanne Collins describes him as having snake-like eyes."

"Please continue, Lady Darcy."

She glared at him with mock anger and severity. "_Darcy_."

"Of course! Darcy, forgive me."

"That's okay. It's gonna take you a while to get used to this, isn't it?

"I am afraid so."

She closed the book and set it aside. "That's as far as I've gotten in Catching Fire. Apparently I can't dream-read something I haven't read when I was awake."

She propped her elbows up on her knees. "Tell me about your home. Tell me about Asgard."

Fandral smiled. "Asgard and Earth, which many of my people call Midgard, are two of the nine realms of the cosmos, and Asgard sits at the very top of the universe. There are green hills that gleam in the sun like living emeralds, blue mountains that hold glittering caverns and fountains that are said to heal the sick and wounded, and forests that echo songs of piercing beauty sung by songbirds that few have ever seen. Our capital sits afloat on the sea that cascades down over the edge of the world. A bridge of rainbow crystal stretches out from Asgard over the sea to the Bifrost, which used to rest at the very brink of the world's edge. There are houses and buildings in Asgard that glow like jewels, and the Palace—where Sif, the Warriors Three and I live as friends of Thor, is the heart of Asgard. It shines like a pinnacle of gold at sunrise and sunset, and houses the Seat of Odin, our King."

He proceeded to tell Darcy all about his beloved home, and when he paused for breath, she sighed.

"Do I bore you, my L—Darcy? Sif tells me that I am always running off at the mouth."

"No, no! It's fine. I was just wishing I could visit Asgard for myself. It sounds beautiful."

Her words sent a jolt of surprise, delight, pain and longing to Fandral's heart, and he only just stopped himself from wishing the same thing.

"It _is_ beautiful," he said quietly instead. "Earth is beautiful as well, but one's heart always seems to accord its home a beauty that transcends the rest."

Darcy was watching him with enchanted eyes, and he felt himself blush a little. "That was pretty. You Asgardians always seem to make poetry out of everything. Here on Earth we talk so plainly, no flowers, no style."

"I would not say that! You of Earth say what you mean; you speak your minds, and you do not disguise it with false pleasantry and insincere courtesy. I admire that. It is one of your strengths as a race. Wear it proudly, do not slight it."

He suddenly became aware that his hand had somehow come to rest over hers as it lay on the grass. He felt his hand grow hot, but there was something strange in the way it was touching hers. He felt the shape of her hand, the curves and the smoothness of the skin, but neither warmth or cold. It was as if there was a veil between her and him.

It was then that he realized that even though they were here face-to-face, talking in a beautiful open glade with the sun shining overhead, they were not truly together. This was after all a place between dreams, of Hildwyn's creation. He wasn't really touching her, couldn't really touch her, would never be able to really kiss her—his heart accelerated a few beats at the thought.

_Where had that come from?_

But he realized that he never truly would be able to do any of those things until the chasm between Earth and Asgard was spanned again.

He and Darcy withdrew their hands at the same time.

"I'm sorry," she said with a smile.

"No it was my fault, Lady Darcy, forgive me."

She raised her eyebrows with a touch of mock anger. "_Lady_?"

"I beg your pardon, Darcy! I fear you shall find me violating your request every now and again for a while."

She winked at him and smiled. "That's all right. You apologize very nicely, and everyone forgets sometimes."

Picking up the book again, she began leafing through it. The word _forget_ suddenly struck a chord in Fandral's mind.

"Darcy, may I ask you something?"

She looked up from the book. "Sure."

He told her the story Thor had told him, the adventure with the Skorgun Boar, about his complete oblivion of that day, and how Healer Naneth apparently did not remember treating his almost-fatal childhood wound.

"Am I wrong for thinking this is strange?"

"I don't think so," Darcy said. "It doesn't surprise me that you don't remember. I don't remember much of anything before I was eight years old. But I do think it's odd that your doctor—or your Healer doesn't remember. Thor told you his mother told him that it was that Healer?"

"Yes."

"Either it's the wrong Healer, or something strange is going on."

Darcy's words solidified an indistinct suspicion that had been growing inside him since Thor told him the story. Something wasn't right, and he suddenly realized that Hildwyn seemed to be at the heart of this mystery. The Skorgun Boar had supposedly appeared on the very day Hildwyn had decided to be of the party, and it had been Hildwyn who had run with him all the way back to Asgard and presented him to the Healers alone. And now although Healer Naneth had been credited with saving his life, she had no memory of it.

_The answer lies with Hildwyn. Everything points to her. There can be no doubt that she hides something._

"You are right. Something strange is going on."

Just as the words were out of his mouth Fandral felt the now-familiar and dreaded pull that meant it was time for the dream to end.

"Shall I see you again soon?"

Darcy cocked her head at him and smiled. "In your dreams."

**I appreciate every word and review you send my way, you guys! EVEN the negative ones ;-) because I realize that you only do it out of love for this story and what you believe to be best for it!**

**Bella**


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